


The One With A Film Class Experiment

by Val_Creative



Series: Warlock & His Dollophead [15]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, First Kiss, Flirting, M/M, Sexual Tension, Strangers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-16
Updated: 2014-05-16
Packaged: 2018-01-24 23:38:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1621157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/pseuds/Val_Creative
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin, from the local art university, and Arthur, from who the heck knows where, are total strangers. Total strangers that turn out to enjoy kissing each other very, very much.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One With A Film Class Experiment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hannijar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannijar/gifts).



> (A very special thank you to my friends on Skype who encouraged this on, even when I was whining, and The Merlin Family as well as The Warlock and His King Network on Tumblr for being a wonderfully excitable bunch ❤ ❤ ❤ )  
>  **Thank you** a million times to [Hanni](http://hannijar.tumblr.com/) for refusing to let me drop this fic. And helping me create the whole deal with your magnificent headcanon ways.
> 
>  
> 
> Day #15: "sweet and passionate"

*

 

He was running late.

Professor Muirden would mark him for _another_ absence—sixth one this month—if Merlin walked into his class _on time_ , barely late at all. But Edwin Muirden also hated his grandfather, so by association: he hated Merlin.

Something about Gaius not willing to hire him as an apprentice, and finding him unteachable and _selfish_ , and Merlin couldn't agree more.

The urban sidewalk was surprisingly not clogged this morning, leaving Merlin the opportunity to maneuver faster, but no less a klutz.

Canvas rolls tumbled out of Merlin's hands, right into a large puddle.

"Oh no, no," he mumbled, frantically scrambling on his knees, dropping his easel and tote bag. Merlin groaned as his colored tubes of new acrylic paints and uncapped brushes spilled out. "Shit, _c'mon_!"

This couldn't get any worse. It really couldn't. Except for a vehicle driving up on the edge of the sidewalk and killing him on impact. As Merlin shook the puddle water off his art supplies, imagining how much _less_ stress he would have to deal with, a person stood over him.

"Excuse me?… _Excuse me_?" they called out meekly. A girl.

Merlin said irritated, not looking up, shoving a fistful of his tube paints into his bag, "As you can see, I'm a little busy at the moment—unless you'd like to, y'know, _help_!" A chord of guilt struck him as the girl eeped.

A new voice huffed, "Oh for goodness sake, Eira!"

Merlin flailed against the slim, delicate arm hooking his and pulling him back onto his feet. _Strong_ delicate arm. Stronger than him.

He stared, interest piqued.

"My name is Morgana," the woman told him, smile emitting professional courtesy. The black and grey piped-floral dress tight on her curvy body. Her entire wardrobe and hair looked very styled and _very_ posh. "I'm heading a project for my film class and I'd like you to consent for it."

Merlin remembered to breathe after a moment. Was she an art student, too?

"Are you from the local uni?" he asked, excited.

"Yes," she said, then casting a benign look at his wet canvas. Merlin looked over his shoulder, eyes rueful. "I'm assuming we both are."

Merlin really didn't feel like coming into the studio with dripping things and gravel-dirtied knees and letting his professor have the satisfaction of beholding Merlin's wounded indignation as he personally ruined Merlin's life.

Skipping classes was _Merlin's_ decision. He'd deal with the consequences later with Agravaine, at the guidance counselor's office—a whole different level of _arrogant prick_.

He shouldered his bag of supplies, ignoring the traitorous puddle.

"I'd love to help," Merlin said, nodding to both Morgana and the meek Eira who lowered her gaze and handed the other woman a clipboard.

"These are your consent forms. Read through at your leisure, and then sign here." Merlin poked the red ballpoint pen from the metal ring above the forms, clicking it ready. "Here, here, initial here," Morgana tapped the blank spaces at rapid pace, naming them off; he kept up.

"Another initial here."

Merlin nervously searched out the teeny blank space before she sighed, exasperated, tapping it on the far corner.

"Date and sign here, thank you," Morgana said primly, taking not only the clipboard but handing off Merlin's bag to the girl. "Eira, don't just _stand_ there—put this with Arthur's things."

Somewhat disappointed, he didn't feel Morgana hook their arms again but she did place a palm on his lower back, guiding him ahead of her.

The empty warehouse did give Merlin paranoid thoughts for a moment (kidnapping, drugged experimentation, black marketing his organs or maybe a weird sex dungeon with spreader bars and cages and whips). But Morgana was very, _very_ pretty. Even if this was an elaborate trap for Merlin's kidneys, he had a full thing of mace in his pocket.

(His mum thought it would safer for Merlin to have it while living in the big city.)

"So… a film project about strangers kissing?" Merlin asked once they were inside a semi-lit corridor, leading the way.

"Quite exciting, wouldn't you say so?" Morgana's demeanor thawed to more cheerful and genuine. "Do you have a preference?"

At the confused noise, she added suggestively, "… Men? Women?"

Merlin shrugged. "Doesn't matter."

"You, my dear… " Morgana waited for his name, not pushing him forward anymore.

He turned around to her, grinning, saying helpfully, "Merlin."

" _Merlin_ ," she said with slow, mock-importance, "are a man of honor."

 

*

 

Morgana discussed her project a little bit during the long walk.

"I've handpicked the pairs myself."

"Will you be…?" Merlin trailed off, hopeful.

He wouldn't mind kissing her.

Even with all the glossy, bright red lipstick on her cupid's bow mouth.

"No," she said flatly, but gave Merlin a searching, empathic look that reassured him. "I'm the director, love. _Not_ a participant."

 _Damn_.

"Worth a shot," he said, grinning again and was favored a sympathetic pat on the lower back.

"Shot in the dark, I'm afraid. _Speaking of_ —"

He jerked in place, feeling her wrap a band of cloth to his eyes. Merlin remembered vaguely the forms mentioning the project going in __blind__. "It's just my scarf, no need to be afraid," she shushed him, tying it securely.

The rest of the walk felt extremely disorienting, relying on Morgana's hands and his other senses to get him where he needed to be.

(Where was that? Merlin didn't exactly know. He heard something whirring, and their footsteps, and then __didn't__ because Merlin found himself walking on loose fabric, thicker like muslin, and stopped.)

"Merlin, your things are safe with me, and __this__ ," he listened to her, eyes blinking the darkness, feeling a not-so delicate hand slipped over his, "is your partner. I'll be with the camera in the meantime." The hand on Merlin's was definitely masculine, warm and rough with calluses.

Merlin's fingers twitched, but when the hand started to quickly release him, Merlin regrasped at it, slipping the man's fingers through the crevices and nudging their hands together. His ears caught a loud intake of breath, not quite alarmed but not quite happy either.

"Whenever you are ready, you both can start."

"When can we take off...?" Merlin gestured slightly to the top of his head.

"For now, keep them on," she instructed, voice amplified and... was Morgana using a __megaphone__? For some reason, that made him chuckle.

The other man grunted at the response, stepping back tentatively when Merlin took an automatic step forward, letting go of their hands.

"Can I...?" he asked. Merlin's hands gently set on his upper arms. When the stranger repeated the motion, Merlin took his cue. Kept it gentle. He moved his hands lightly over the slopes of broad, muscular shoulders, exploring with care, over his shirt and feeling the man's heart go fast.

Flat, wide pectorals, and down lower was a flat abdomen with not an ounce of extra fat to be had. Merlin wouldn't have cared either way.

He felt like... a military bloke, perhaps. With all the sinew and hard muscle.

"Mm, you feel nice..."

He became so distracted in __appreciating__ that Merlin was surprised when another hand grasped his chin, steadying his face up. The kiss didn't happen immediately, no dramatic swoop, no clumsily bashing noses.

The other man's lips hovered over Merlin's cheek, and Merlin aided him, turning for the right angle and slotting their mouths to an easy fit.

Were they both blindfolded in front of everyone? Must have been.

Merlin was about to press a bit closer into him, to this body and mouth, to run the tip of his tongue against the soft inside of bottom lip... when the hand left Merlin's chin, and the other man separated them.

"Too fast for you?" Merlin asked, not meaning to have it taunting like that, but frustrated for no proper reason other than he __wanted__ more.

"...Are you nervous?" he tried again, sounding kinder.

"I don't get nervous."

Merlin snorted. "Really? I thought everyone got nervous—" And the lips returned, crushing harder, fiercer, with hands holding Merlin's face.

He shuddered into a teasing, rolling lick and combated it with energetic suck, pulling the other man's tongue into Merlin's welcoming mouth.

The bloke knew how to __kiss__.

But so did Merlin.

They both got lost in it, moaning and breathless, chest-to-chest. Merlin's fingers clutched to the nape of a downy-haired neck. He slowly rocked between two hands gripping his ass and the faint thrusts against him.

"—ut! For fuck's sake, Arthur! __Cut__!"

Morgana's voice did just that, cutting Merlin out from the daze. He had no idea if the forms permitted him to remove the blindfold just now, but...

To hell with it.

He wretched off the banded scarf, eyes adjusting to the glare-lighting of the warehouse and to the sublime view of his partner removing his, too.

Oh, __hell__.

Sun-kissed face, big blue eyes, and great hygiene. No military haircut in sight. Tailored dress clothes.

With glee, Merlin realized the other man's cheeks were flushed, and his lips deliciously reddened and swollen.

He looked just as posh as Morgana (were they related?—even with her pale green eyes and not so blonde curls) but far more __gorgeous__ , and Merlin needed to stop that. He needed to stop thinking about that because his dick was hard and Arthur had been hard against him, and he still wanted to know how it fit with Arthur rutting the crease of his ass.

 _ _Arthur__.

Morgana had said Arthur. To them. To the bloke.

He questioned, uncertainly, "Your name is Arthur?"

A nod.

"I'm Merlin."

He knew what he probably looked like to Arthur: a poor, eccentric university student, with woolen, fingerless gloves and bundled layers of jumpers. Cheeks flaming against pasty skin. He got one of his suitemates to bleach the tips of his hair, after growing it out from a hideous bowl-cut, and then dye them a vibrant blueberry color. They looked wicked all gelled into spikes. Merlin smelled like varnish and his paints and the cold outdoor air. Unlike Arthur who smelled like cologne on hot, rosy skin.

A skeptical, close-mouthed noise. Arthur examined him.

"Not bad."

" _ _Not bad__?" Merlin parroted, scornful. "You're a right git, aren't you?"

In the background, a few snickers from the cameraman and technician. Eira gaping. Morgana hid an amused smile behind her clipboard.

Arthur shook his head, as if he believed he hadn't heard Merlin correctly.

"Excuse me?"

"No, __you're right__ ," Merlin said, not missing a beat with his sarcasm. "It's not like you had your hands on my arse or anything like that."

Arthur jerked a finger warningly in Merlin's direction, eyebrows hitched.

"I was... in the moment," he concluded. "That's it. It was for the _film_."

He pulled his finger away as Merlin leaned in, an inch taller than him, grinning; a child with a tasty lollipop and not likely to keep it a secret.

"So you __don't__ wanna keep doing it?" he asked, blue tips and blue eyes.

Arthur gazed over Merlin's confident expression, over all of him.

Morgana flipped on her megaphone, calling out, "Alright, that's enough for today. Now if you lot would just come evaluate the—"

" _ _Do not__ put words in my mouth," Arthur said to Merlin, leaning in as well and gliding his hands over Merlin's hips, deceasing their space.

Merlin laughed softly at the biting tone.

"Then can I put something else in your mouth?"

Arthur's fingers tightened on him, sending invisible currents of heat-sensation and __need__ through him. "You are far too cheeky, __Mer__ lin."

"That doesn't sound like a complaint to me."

"It isn't," Arthur told him, lips curling up.

Merlin's stomach did an easy somersault inside him but lacking any nausea, as he was hoisted up into Arthur's arms. Merlin's legs wrapped to Arthur's waist to keep himself there. He may have been taller than Arthur, but weighed less and he _really_ enjoyed the thought of Arthur manhandling him around, tugged by the collar or lifted off Merlin's feet.

Merlin framed his wool-gloved hands to Arthur's face, giving him one more delighted look before opening his mouth wide, craning his neck and overtaking Arthur's mouth, pushing in happily with his tongue.

The arms tucking under Merlin and groans of ecstasy— _jesus_ , Merlin was going to kiss him stupid later, open Arthur with his lubricated fingers, and make love to him until they're both dried up and exhausted and gross.

And they were gonna cuddle afterwards because the only thing better than a mind-blowing shag was a mind-blowing shag __and__ cuddling—and if Arthur wasn't a cuddler, Merlin was going to change his mind.

Because it couldn't get worse anymore. Not when things were _so_ good.

 

*

 

Morgana lowered her clipboard, cocking her head. Eyes gleaming.

"You're still filming, right?" she asked her cameraman Leon, neither of them looking away from the continued affectionate display.

"Absolutely."

" _ _Good__ ," she said aloud, smirking. Professor Kilgharrah was gonna eat this up.

 

*


End file.
